Ry twined his fingers with hers, and the two of them rushed toward the beckoning front porch of Bram’s two-story Arts and Crafts style bungalow. As if he’d been anticipating their arrival, Bram flung open the door and she and Ry trooped into the entry, stomping their snow-covered boots on the waiting mat. Bram helped her from her coat. Like Ry, he couldn’t seem to keep his hands from wandering along the outer swells of her breasts. She glanced up at him and noticed the flushed state of his face. More than likely hers was equally so, but at least she could blame it on the frigid temps outside.
Once he’d hung her coat up in the hall closet, Bram snuggled her in his arms. “I’m glad you decided to come.”
“Ry didn’t give me much choice,” she admitted wryly.
“Hmm, remind me to thank him later.”
A grunt came from Ry. “I’m standing right here. You can thank me now.”
“True, but I’m kinda busy right now.” Bending, Bram slid his mouth over hers. The contrast of his warm lips and breath against her colder flesh was startling. His heat managed to kindle her body in more ways than one. By the time he broke the kiss, her inner temperature had skyrocketed by at least one hundred degrees. They pulled apart and she peeked sideways. Ry was staring at them, his eyes dark and intense. There was no mistaking the obvious bulge tenting the fly of his jeans.
Wow, did watching her and Bram kissing turn him on? The notion was both odd and arousing. Ry had such a strong possessive streak. She could only guess that he tended to be just as territorial when it came to his women.
Mulling back over that last thought, she realized where her misassumption lay. She wasn’t Ry’s woman. Why would he care who kissed her? Furthermore, of course he’d be aroused witnessing the kiss between her and Bram. For Pete’s sake, the two men intended to do a hell of a lot more than that with her together.
The reminder brought her jittery nerves back to the forefront. Despite her best efforts not to allow her mind to go there, she couldn’t help wondering what exactly they had done with the female from their previous threesome experience. Obviously they’d fucked the woman, no mystery there. She’d read enough steamy ménage books to be able to figure out at least the basics of what had gone down.
If she were to be completely honest with herself, what terrified her most was the possibility of being a huge disappointment to Ry and Bram. Most likely that mystery woman had been exotic and sexy, the exact opposite of Lacey. Hell, maybe the female had been the one to proposition Bram and Ry. How could Lacey compete with that sort of brazen confidence?
Yes, it was stupid to compare herself to a faceless woman from their past, but it didn’t change the fact that she was worried she’d come out lacking in retrospect. Smothering her sigh, she knelt and unzipped her boots before tugging them off. She wore thick socks, but she couldn’t help being grateful for the radiant heating Bram had installed with his parquet floors. Her toes curling in appreciation of the cozy warmth, she straightened and hugged her chest.
“How about a glass of wine?” Bram offered, heading toward the kitchen. “I just opened a bottle.”
A fifth of tequila was more in order, but she kept the thought to herself. She didn’t want them to assume she needed to get snockered in order to go through with this. Even though she probably did.
Ry’s palm rubbed her tensed back, and she looked up at him. With his free arm, he gestured toward Bram, indicating that they should follow him.
Good idea. Standing all night in the entry clearly wouldn’t get them anywhere fast. Feeling like a doofus, she allowed Ry to lead her into the kitchen. While Bram grabbed a pair of crystal stemware from the rack and a cold beer from the fridge for Ry, she scooted onto one of the leather-capped barstools fronting the enormous granite-topped center island. She’d sat on this very seat numerous times, but she’d never once experienced the level of stomach-churning anxiety that she did now.
Where was the sexy Lacey from her fantasies? Figures the damn wench would abandon her in her time of need.
Bram settled her wineglass in front of her, and she picked it up to take a fortifying sip. A warm, mellow glow spread through her as the Shiraz settled in her belly. The aroma of garlic and red chilies carried from a pan sizzling on the stove. She licked her lips. “Is that Kevin’s Penne Arrabiata?”
“Yep. I’m just reheating it a bit. It’ll be ready in a sec.”
Both Bram and Ry knew the dish was her absolute favorite. It was just one of the countless insider scoops they had on her. Knowing they’d deliberately chosen her most beloved comfort food settled her nerves and her stomach. These two men practically knew her better than she knew herself. They’d been there for her through some of the toughest times in her life. If there was anyone she trusted to embark on a sexual discovery with, it was them.
This would work. She’d make damn sure of it. Gulping another sip of wine, she silently armored her determination. Her fingers no longer displaying the trembling she’d suffered moments ago, she pushed the glass closer to the middle of the island and turned toward Ry. He smiled at her in the adorable way that always made his eyes crinkle at the corners. Leaning forward, she crushed her mouth over his, earning his harsh intake of breath. His surprise didn’t last long though. Groaning, he tangled a hand in her hair, slanting her head as his tongue delved past her lips.
He kissed her like he was giving a demonstration of how he intended to make love to her—hot, deep and consuming. His other hand moved to her breast and caressed it through her clothing. A frustrated growl rumbled from him, and he reached for the hem of her sweater and tugged it upward. He broke their kiss and guided her arms over her head. She realized what he intended to do. Rather than protest, she allowed him to remove her sweater and toss it on the stool behind him.
His gaze raked her torso, lingering on the plumped cleavage peeking above the silk cups of her pink demi bra. Without saying a word, he unhooked the front closure. The weight of her breasts pushed the bra open slightly. Running his fingers beneath the straps, Ry eased them down her shoulders, forcing the garment to separate from her flesh in agonizingly slow increments. His Adam’s apple bobbed, a sure sign that his lazy, tormenting movements affected him just as much as her. The edges of the silk caught on her nipples, the teasing rasp springing a moan past her lips.
Finally the fabric released her from its taunting hold, completely baring her to Ry’s heated gaze. “Christ, you’re fucking beautiful.”
A soft scuff sounded to the left, and she turned her head to see Bram standing beside her. She’d been so ensnared in Ry’s focus she hadn’t heard Bram approach until then. Like Ry, he was staring at her with a dark, ravenous hunger. “He’s right, Lace. Your breasts are gorgeous. Absolutely perfect.”
She’d always worried they were too big, especially in the sense that they’d sag and not exactly be perky the older she got. But judging from Bram’s and Ry’s enamored expressions, saggy boobs were the last concern on their minds. As if to verify her assumption, Ry cupped her breast, her flesh overflowing his palm. His thumb flicked over her puckered nipple, and she gasped, a pleasurable shiver coursing along her spine. His pupils dilated, making his eyes look dark and sexy as sin. Massaging her breast, he leaned down and traced her areola with the tip of his tongue before kissing the pebbled nub. Her breath hitched and her head fell back, her eyes sliding shut. They flew open a second later when Bram’s mouth closed around her other nipple.
They were both licking and sucking her breasts. Oh God. She’d fantasized about this very thing thousands of times yet nothing could compare to the mind-blowing reality of it. The pleasure was so intense, she worried she might pass out from it. Her fingers sifted through Ry’s and Bram’s hair, holding them close. Although they were equally devoted to worshipping her breasts, their style and technique came with differences. Intriguing, exciting differences that only fueled her arousal to a fever pitch. Bram’s focus was strictly concentrated on her nipple, alternating between teasing flicks of his tongue and long, luscious suckling. Ry, on the other hand, occasionally licked and teased her entire breast, even using his teeth and the scruff of his days-old beard to amp up his sensual onslaught.